


Ensnare

by angelofthetrench



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofthetrench/pseuds/angelofthetrench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer wanted his attention, wanted his love. She wanted to entrap him like he had ensnared her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ensnare

**Author's Note:**

> Come sin with me on tumblr! I'm wubbalubbabullshit.

It always hurt. It didn’t matter how gentle he was, how kind. How long he teased her breasts, how sweetly he kissed her, how wet his tongue made her. The act was always full of pain, and never failed to bring the prickle of tears to her eyes.

 

Summer’s face was pressed into a pastel pink pillow, her nostrils filled with the scent of herself that was embedded in the fibers. Her ass was up in the air, and she could feel his hands ghosting over her spine, her hips, her thighs, then finally slipping between her fold, his fingers slowly pushing their way inside. A groan escaped her, and she could feel him smirking, feel his eyes locked on her.

 

“Thhhhaaatttsss my girl,” He growled, his words drawn out by lust and an ever present drunken slur. Her hips bucked back to meet his fingers, her whole body shivering at the sound of him chuckling.

 

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet for me, Summer.”

 

She pressed her face further into the pillow, muffling her pathetic whimpers. “G-grandpa Rick…”

 

His fingers curled inside of her and she could feel her body responding, the pillow unable to completely hide the stream of moans falling from her lips. She didn’t mind this part so much,  she could detach, pretend this wasn’t her, this wasn’t her life. She wasn’t letting her grandfather kiss her, touch her, his gravely voice and calloused fingers weren’t driving her crazy. She didn’t adore his moist breath on her skin and the way his bones pressed into her soft skin when they embraced. She could remove herself from this perverse pleasure.

 

When he removed his fingers she whimpered, risking a glance back over her shoulder, taking in his pale form in the darkness. She knew what was about to come, and she told herself to breath, just breath. She could feel him positioning himself behind her, letting the tip of his cock teasingly rub against her slit, and she pressed her face back into the pillow, helpless.

 

The pain was sharp, ripping her apart, and her mouth opened silently, the fabric scraping against her tongue. This was the part she hated, the part where she could no longer pretend, with him slowly pushing inside of her, spreading her, the pressure making her head spin.

 

It hurt her in some deep, unreachable place. Her thighs trembled, her hands clutched at the sheets, her mouth still wide as soft mewls poured out, and he began to move inside of her. It was then she could no longer deny she was a whore, selling her body for his love. For his attention. For any kind of tender touch and word of praise. This was the only way he would care about her, the only way he would spare her a passing thought.  
  
No one in this house seemed to think of her as a priority. She was ignored by her parents, they were always to busy fighting or worrying over Morty to think of their eldest. She was left to her own devices, free to drink, to party, to come and go as she pleased, given more freedom than any teen should have. But when Rick had come into the picture she had hoped that maybe, just maybe, someone would care. Someone would treat her like the child she still was, give her guidance, discipline, and above all else, _love_.

 

But that dream had lasted only a moment, up until he had opened his mouth and she had heard that gravely, bitter voice. He never spoke to her after that, except to tell her how lame or stupid she was. But he took an interest in Morty,  of course. He took the boy with him in his ship, taught him things, praised and scolded him freely. Yes, he was cruel to the boy as well, and their relationship was far from healthy. But at least they had a relationship.

 

Summer had thought she was on her own, fated to be removed from everyone in this fucked up family, until one drunken night she had discovered the way into Rick’s thoughts: her body.

 

Now she lay here on her stomach, her mind spinning, body rocking back and forth as her grandfather slammed into her, his hand wrapping around to reach between her legs and rub, almost painfully, against her clit.  His movements became more erratic, and with each thrust she felt sick, the bile rising in her throat, coating her mouth with its taste. It felt good, so good, she was close, and this only heightened her despair.

 

With only a few more thrusts she came, biting into the pillow, eyes moist and screwed shut.

 

“Good—good girl Summer, c-cumming for me like a little slut–” His praise sent a wave of aftershock through her body. She was oversensitive now, but endured, allowing him to thrust into her a few more times before he pulled out. She knew he was giving himself a couple more rough tugs as those familiar curses and sighs broke through his lips, and then he came, all over her ass and back. The fluid was warm and sticky, and it felt as if he was marking her forever, branding her as his pathetic, insecure little girl.

 

Soon his sounds of ecstasy faded, and both of them were slipping from their high. Rick gave her a gentle slap on her rear, and she forced herself to smile, looking back at him. The aftermath was always awkward, painful. He would be gone soon, and she would be alone until he needed her again. Yet she always tried to look happy, tried to hide her glistening eyes, because she was scared if he knew how badly she needed this, and how much it hurt her, he would stop, and she couldn’t bare the thought that this was their last time.

 

He leaned over, pressing a slopping kiss to her lips, before moving to pull his clothes back on. “T-thanks, babe,” He said once he was finished dressing, already moving towards the door. Summer tried to keep up her charade as she rolled over onto her back, stretched her body out for him, showing off every little mark he had left on ruined skin. “Anytime.” Her voice was light and sweet, almost too sweet, and he looked at her for a brief moment. A thought flashed across his face, a ghost of something that could be called concern, but instead he shrugged. He held up a hand, a silent farewell, and was gone.  

 

Once the door closed and his footsteps faded a sob tore trough her, frightfully loud in her cold, silent room. It’s suddenness startled her, and she covered her mouth, curling in on herself, eyes wide. This was what she wanted, what she asked for, what she had dreamed. She loved Rick, loved they way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he craved her body.

 

But that was it. That was all he craved. Not her mind, not her thoughts, not her future. Only her flesh. This was all it would ever be. 

 

It took about an hour before she slipped into a cold, hazy sleep, her body still burning with the ghost of his touch. It haunted her, along with this nameless terror, promising to follow her for the rest of her life. Rick would forever remain a splinter in her heart, she would never be able to escape him, but that was fine. She didn’t want to. She wanted him to remain by her side, no matter the capacity. She wanted to entrap him like he had ensnared her.

 

She told herself as long as she remained beautiful, he would love her. It was the only chance she had to keep any hold over him. So she would continue to slather her body in oils and creams, paint her face until it was flawless. All for the reward of agony, and the promise that she would fall asleep with his scent on her skin and pain burning deep inside of her, until the day he finally left this world.


End file.
